Polywank
by LizardLaugh
Summary: Tonks laughed. “No, not much use for polyjuice, though I did quite well at it as I recall. The whole class was very anxious to see what form my partner would take.” Honks.


**Title:** Polywank

**Author:** LizardLaugh

**Rating:** R

**Ships:** one sided Harry/Tonks, one sided implied Harry/Neville

**Summary:** Tonks laughed. "No, not much use for polyjuice, though I did quite well at it as I recall. The whole class was very anxious to see what form my partner would take."

**Warnings:** genderfuck, het, wanking, implied slash, Draco abuse, dubious consent

**A/N:** Please read the warnings before proceeding. This story isn't very graphic, but it does have elements that may disturb some people. That is why it is rated R. Harry turns into a girl. It is implied that another boy may have more than friend-type feelings for Harry. Please keep this in mind. Flames will be used to light the author's cigarettes. Enjoy!

**Polywank**

It was the last night of the Christmas holidays and Harry Potter lay sprawled out on the floor with his Potions homework in front of the drawing room fire at 12 Grimmauld Place, scribbling furiously. Leave it Snape to make life miserable. Five whole feet on polyjuice potion. While this should, in theory, be a snap after the, er, adventure in second year, it was actually Hermione who had done all the work, and Harry couldn't remember one single bit of it. Unfortunately, Hermione was spending Christmas with her parents and Ron was less than helpful, having dropped Potions like an amorous Blast Ended Skrewt after fifth year.

So engrossed in trying to recall exactly how much boomslang skin needed to be added and when, Harry failed to notice he was being watched until the toes of a very shiny pair of black Auror boots appeared under his nose. Harry was quite familiar with these shiny black boots and the shapely pair of legs they were attached to, though he had spent the entire holiday trying to disguise this familiarity.

"Polyjuice potion," said Tonks with a wry chuckle. "Over the hols too. Snape is such a bastard."

"Yeah," said Harry, grinning stupidly up at her. He wished he could manage something more charming and witty, but her presence tended to reduce him to brainless babble. Tonks was unbelievably cool and pretty with a very nice tall, lean figure he had somehow failed to notice the previous year. The fact that she had been in his actual bedroom the summer before last filled his head with all sorts of interesting scenarios, leaving little available space for blood or coherent thought, both of which had departed to points known and unknown, respectively.

"I could help, if you like," said Tonks, kneeling down on the floor beside him. "I absolutely loathed Potions, but always managed to get decent marks."

"Er, thanks. I'd appreciate it very much," Harry said, trying to force his voice into a lower register, but finding it quite difficult with her lovely pixie-like face mere inches from his. "Though I don't suppose you'd have much use for polyjuice, what with being a Metamorphmagus and all."

Tonks laughed. "No, not much use for polyjuice, though I did quite well at it as I recall. The whole class was very anxious to see what form my partner would take."

"Oh?" It hadn't occurred to Harry before now that Tonks might not look exactly like he normally saw her. He liked her appearance very much, but supposed that her natural hair coloring probably wasn't bright pink. He began to ponder what she might _really_ look like and whether or not he would like that look just as much. "Were they surprised?"

"Not telling," she said with a wink. "Now let's see... you've got this bit all wrong, it's twenty turns clockwise, not counter-clockwise."

"Do you look much different?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the best of his better judgment. "Different than you do now?"

"Let's work on this Potions homework, shall we?" Something in her expression told him he best not press his luck.

Harry promptly dropped the subject and spent the next two hours engaged in the most enjoyable Potions lesson of his entire magical career. The next morning, Tonks escorted him to King's Cross along with Ron and Ginny. A warm hug and a swift kiss on the cheek later, Harry was sitting blissfully on the Hogwarts Express, lost in pleasant reverie. It wasn't until he arrived back at Gryffindor tower that he noticed the tiny strand of pink hair contrasted brightly against the dark wool of his winter cloak. Taking great care, he lifted it away betwixt thumb and forefinger.

"What's that?" Ron asked, trying to peer over his shoulder.

"Er, nothing," Harry mumbled, quickly stuffing the pink strand between the pages of his Potions book. "D'you suppose Hermione's back yet?"

Snape stalked the aisles of the Potions dungeon scowling menacingly, but reserving special scorn for Harry and his partner, Neville Longbottom. Harry wasn't entirely sure how Neville managed to get the requisite OWL to take NEWT level Potions, but he had, much to the displeasure of their odious Potions Master. Snape had paired everyone up with a member of the same sex for the duration of the polyjuice project, and had put Harry and Neville together to save everyone else in the class their collective ineptitude. Hermione was paired with Pansy Parkinson, much to her dismay, and assigned a spot well across the room. In other words, Harry and Neville were doomed. Or so Snape thought.

As a wary Neville looked on that first day back from the holidays, Harry produced the copious notes he had made with the help of Tonks. They were saved. For a brief moment, Harry was afraid Neville might kiss him. On the very last day - the day they were to test the results of four weeks of meticulous labor - the polyjuice gurgled sickeningly in its cauldron, a putrid shade of greenish brown, exactly as it should. Snape seethed.

"Open you books to page four hundred and sixty-nine," he said through gritted teeth. "I suggest you follow these final steps very carefully. The slightest fumble and you may be stuck -" He paused for a moment for dramatic effect. "- permanently."

"Better watch your back, Longbottom. Potter just might bung the whole thing on purpose, and the Dark Lord will be coming after _you_," sneered Malfoy. The other Slytherins snickered sycophantically.

Neville paled, but recovered quickly and thrust out his chin. "Better V-Voldemort after me than stuck looking like you, Malfoy."

"Just ignore him," Harry whispered to Neville, loud enough for everyone to hear. "If Malfoy came face to face with Voldemort, he'd probably wet his knickers."

Draco balled his fists at his sides, his self-satisfied smirk twisting into barely contained fury. "I don't wear knickers!"

"That will be enough," Snape said tightly. "Ten points from Gryffindor. Now open your books."

_Let's just get this lesson over with. _Harry sighed and opened his book. That is when he saw it. A tiny sliver of bright pink shining cheerfully up at him from the yellowed, potion stained pages of his book. Tonks's hair... his stomach turned a little somersault.

_"The whole class was very anxious to see what form my partner would take."_

Should he...? The lesson with Tonks and the kiss on the cheek had been fodder for many a late night fantasy over the past few weeks. He wouldn't mind seeing her again... wouldn't mind seeing what she really looked like. Was it really so different than what he had been doing since the holidays? He wouldn't actually _do_ anything, wouldn't let anyone see him that way... just a quick peek in a mirror. She'd never even know.

Carefully, while no one was looking, Harry slipped the precious strand into an empty phial and dropped it into the pocket of his robes. _For later_, he thought.

The rest of the lesson went quite smoothly. Last minute adjustments were made. Bits of hair were exchanged. Vile polyjuice was choked down. After the excruciating transformation, everyone stood around, staring awkwardly at one another and giggling nervously.

Harry watched Neville raise a trembling hand to his forehead. "Yes, it's there," Harry said with Neville's voice, mildly amused. _If only you knew..._

Neville jerked his hand away, looking very apologetic. "I-I'm sorry, Harry," Neville stuttered with Harry's voice.

"It's alright," said Harry, glancing over at Hermione and Pansy. "I could think of worse people to have in my skin."

"Poor Hermione," said Neville. "But she makes Pansy Parkinson look almost... almost, well, pretty."

By the time the novelty of looking like someone else had worn off, an hour had passed and most everyone had changed back. Only one pair of students had to be sent to the hospital wing, much to Snape's annoyance.

The bell rang and Snape ordered the cauldrons cleared. While the rest of the class was busying themselves putting away supplies and fumbling with book bags, Harry surreptitiously filled another phial with polyjuice potion and slipped it into his pocket next to the other, his heart racing just slightly as they tinkled together.

Harry paced the floor nervously in front of the portrait of Barnabus the Barmy under the cover of his Invisibility Cloak. He'd need a mirror... maybe something to sit on. He'd have to wait the whole hour before sneaking back up to Gryffindor tower. Couldn't exactly go crawling into bed looking like Tonks. _Then again..._

On the third pass, a door materialized on the opposite wall. Harry entered the Room of Requirement to find it contained exactly what he required. A tall gilded mirror stood in the center of the room. A pile of squashy, bright colored cushions were situated in front of the mirror. In place of the usual torches, softly glowing candles hovered in mid-air.

Should he really go through with it? Perhaps Tonks kept her real appearance a secret for a reason. Perhaps she was really very hideous. Perhaps... perhaps she wasn't really even a _she_. If she ever found out, she would probably hate him. And that wouldn't do. But then, did he really have a chance with her anyway? No, definitely not. He was just a kid and she was a beautiful woman and an Auror and probably had many handsome wizards vying for her attention. _Just a peek..._ Harry assured himself. Satisfy his curiosity, wait for the potion to wear off, and no one would be the wiser.

Barely able to breathe, Harry removed both phials from the pocket of his robes. His fingers shook as he dropped the strand of hair into the muddy potion. Nothing happened at first, but then it started bubbling again and turned a shocking shade of fuchsia. Was the color of the polyjuice a reflection of personality? Neville's had turned a pale blue, and Harry's a deep green. _Perhaps the Sorting Hat had been right all along_, he thought guiltily.

Pushing aside his niggling conscious and last minute doubts, he quickly gulped down the potion all in one swallow. The transformation was painful, even more painful than usual, perhaps compounded by guilt and the fact that he was changing into someone of the opposite sex. His skin bubbled up. His hands disappeared into his sleeves. The hem of his robes puddled around his feet. His trousers became uncomfortably tight around the hips. A shirt button broke free and bounced off the mirror. A familiar face, eyes wide with surprise, stared back at him, but that was nearly all that was familiar.

The real Nymphadora Tonks was not the tall, lithe woman he had been fantasizing about for the past several months. No. She was quite short, shorter than himself even, and positively drowning in his robes. She was bosomy, and if the distressed seams of Harry's trousers were any indication, she'd make a fine Weasley wife. Her face was very much the same. Perhaps a little wider across the cheekbones, a little more point to the chin, but still just as lovely. Her eyes were even the same color 8211; a very deep brown, almost black. Instead of one of the many shocking colors she usually sported, her hair was quite dark and fell to the shoulders in messy curls.

Harry was a bit giddy. It was as if he was in on some huge secret. Without even thinking he shucked his robes for a better look. And what a look it was! Through the gap left by the missing button he got a tantalizing glimpse of real live cleavage. Hastily, he undid the rest of the buttons. _So they won't break, of course_, he thought to himself. Bountiful breasts bounced free, nipples grazing the rough woven cotton of his shirt. Harry felt something tingle. A small twinge. Perhaps it was the too tight trousers.

Not taking his eyes off the mirror, Harry watched as two small, trembling hands worked clumsily about the waist. Unclasped and unzipped, lovely hips shimmied their way out of snug trousers. Harry quickly kicked them out of the way along with his oversized shoes, which had been covering small, dainty feet.

Hungrily, his eyes explored tantalizing curves and smooth ivory skin. The small, delicate hands 8211; her hands 8211; were shaking by his sides. Tonks had just the slightest bit of a belly poking out over the waist band of his shorts. He wanted to touch it. _Just a stomach_, he reassured himself, _everyone has one of those_.

He wasn't prepared, however, for how soft it was or how watching those fingers slide across it would send Tonks's skin prickling with gooseflesh. Harry wished he make her skin do that for real. It felt nice. It felt very nice. The sensation of delicate fingers over smooth skin... the sensation of the smooth skin beneath the delicate fingers - it was a wonder Tonks ever left her flat!

Without properly thinking it through, Harry kicked off his shorts and shrugged his way out of his shirt. Nymphadora Tonks stood before him, completely naked in the mirror. Harry had never seen a naked woman up close. Well, there was that one time he accidentally walked in on his aunt Petunia in the bath, and there were the Play Wizard magazines Ron kept hidden in the bottom of his school trunk, but seeing his aunt Petunia made Harry want to scrub his eyes out with Mrs. Skower's Magical Mess Remover, and no matter how the girls in the magazines struck seductive poses and blew air kisses, they weren't real. _This_ was real. Well, close enough, anyway. And it was Tonks.

Harry was completely overtaken by what he could only describe later as a mad, womanly _yearning_. That space between his legs that usually wasn't a space at all was warm and, well, _wet_. Not wet in a bad way, no, it was wet in a good way, that much was clear. The more he explored, purely in the interest of... oh who was he trying to kid, anyway? He watched in the mirror thinking of Tonks thinking of him and... and... mad, womanly yearning was quickly overtaken by mad (and clumsy) womanly _wanking_.

Harry was very glad Tonks wasn't the tall, long limbed woman she pretended to be when the intense waves of womanly pleasure overtook him and his knees gave way and Tonks's petite, softly padded womanly form collapsed quite _un_womanly to the floor, missing the squashy cushions entirely. He knew there would be bruises, but it didn't matter so much just then. He just wanted to rest for a moment and bask in the afterglow, but instead fell very soundly asleep. .

Harry awoke sometime later very cold, very naked and very much possessing dangly bits. The floating candles had nearly burned themselves out, and he was left fumbling around in semi-darkness for his clothes. His back felt funny from sleeping all twisted and his conscience wasn't doing much better.

It was still dark outside as Harry made his way back to Gryffindor tower beneath his invisibility cloak. Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't hear the footsteps as he passed through the third floor corridor. The last thing he needed was for Snape or McGonagall to catch him out like this with the remains of polyjuice potion on his person and his clothing in disarray. Panicked, he ducked behind a suit of armor until the footsteps faded, though he didn't feel completely safe until he was tucked beneath the covers of his four poster with the curtains tightly drawn.

The next morning on the way to breakfast, Harry was on the receiving end of a great many queer looks. Hannah Abbot averted her eyes and giggled into the sleeve of her robe. Zacharias Smith pointed and let out a long, low whistle. It wasn't until Harry bumped into Luna Lovegood that he realized something was terribly, terribly wrong.

For one, they were at eye level. For another… there was more than the usual padding between them. "Hello, Harry," Luna said. "I hope you don't mind me saying so, but you have very nice bosoms."

"Er…" Harry said, feeling a bit sick to his stomach.

"You feeling all right, mate?" Came a distant voice that sounded like it must belong to Ron, though Harry couldn't be totally sure as he very abruptly fainted.

When he awoke again, he found himself in the hospital wing beneath a very sour faced Madam Pomfrey tutting over him quite disapprovingly and applying something cold and wet to his forehead. "W-will they go away?" Harry stammered awkwardly, his hands reaching for the unwelcome bumps on his chest.

"Yes!" said Madam Pomfrey, grabbing his wrists and setting his hands very firmly at his sides. "Though I can't imagine why you added ground mustard seed to the polyjuice. Didn't you know it would render the potion semi-permanent if taken more than three hours after the potion was complete?"

Mustard seed… it had been in the notes Tonks had given him. But…

"Frankly, I don't know what you were trying to do or _who_ you were trying to… oh, but it doesn't matter. If you had only used the potion in class as instructed, the mustard seed powder wouldn't have made a bit of difference. Drink this and REST!"

With that, she placed a vile smelling concoction in his hand and stalked back towards her office, closing the door behind her with a very curt thwack. Harry gulped down the foul liquid and looked around the room. He wasn't alone. Three beds down sat Neville Longbottom, squinting back at him with his very own startling green eyes.

"H-hullo, Harry," said Neville, quickly averting his gaze. "I think there was something wrong with th-the polywank, er, juice, er..."

"I'll say," said Harry, pulling the covers up over his burning face. "I won't tell if you won't."

fin.


End file.
